Mrs Georgie Sheldon

The Magic Cameo Mrs Georgie Sheldon

Picture number one shows us a young man of about twenty-eight years standing on the veranda of a fine country residence that rises out of the midst of spacious and well-kept grounds, while stretching out and around on every hand are many broad acres of carefully tilled fields of grain, luxuriant waving grass, and, in the distance, a belt of woodland. Behind the mansion are roomy and substantial barns and outhouses for various purposes, all in perfect repair and telling of comfortable quarters for horses, cows, and other kinds of stock. It is, in fact, a thrifty and ideal New England farm, and a home of which any man might reasonably feel proud. But the young man standing upon the broad veranda has at this moment no thought of his prospective inheritance. His form is as rigid as that of a statue; his face is set and colorless; his eyes wide and staring and full of hopeless wretchedness, as they scan the letter which he is holding in his hand. The missive had been brought to him a few moments previous by the hired man who had just returned from the village post-office, and who had shot a sly glance and smile up at his young master, to indicate that he had not been unmindful of the delicate and flowing handwriting in which it had been addressed, that had caused such a glad light to leap into the eyes of the recipient and made him blush like a girl as he tore it eagerly open.